


It wasn't what was planned

by Lyonadono



Category: Captain Harlock
Genre: Drunkenness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 17:03:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2819627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyonadono/pseuds/Lyonadono
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yama was not used to drinks. Definitely not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It wasn't what was planned

Yama was not used to drinks. Definitely not. Had he really only lived as an innocent, passionate with botany, young man then as a soldier efficient with only remorse ? Harlock did not really doubt it. And anyways. The problem was another one.

The nights – and even the days, the moment did not have a real importance, especially in space – of drinkings were not rare aboard the Arcadia ; to find a member of the crew lying in a corridor, an expression of beatitude on his face, was something common. But all of them were hardened drinkers who just stumbled to go to fall asleep wherever they liked. Until Yama joined them.

And he had him there, in his cabin, lying his back more or less against the wide table which was holding his shaking arms. His cheeks were abnormally red under his freshly opened scar and his hazy gaze looked like it experienced great difficulties to discern the items around him. Yet he firmly stared at the captain. Or at least in the area where he was standing, sitting on a crimson armchair.

Why had he came directly here once the majority of the crew was groggy from the alcohol, he did not exactly know it. No one was coming here except from Miime ; she was with him when Yama entered unexpectedly in. Since then, she had slipped away, and her steps had something quite mischievous this time, he was quite sure about it. The situation should be comical to her.

The two men had been staying like that, face to face, for long minutes, without a pronounced word. Harlock was waiting, or rather letting time pass, because there was nothing to wait for. Though, tired of it, he eventually broke the immobility of the scenery to bring his wine glass to his lips, looking indifferent. This motion seemed to bring Yama out of his vague trance. The young man tried to stand up as much as he could and made a stumbling step forwards to find himself just before the captain. His gaze had not became more fixed, but proved to be more determined than before.

“Captain...”, was the only word that escaped his lips, in a hardly audible breath.

The denomination was surprising. Harlock had not heard him call him “captain” a lot, and at least not when he was speaking to him directly. Indeed, Yama did not seem to be inclined to accept a hierarchy between them. It had never had that much importance, because this look of disobedience did not prevent the young rebel to listen to the orders ; he did not necessarily went by the book, but the watchword on board of the Arcadia put up well with it : everyone was free to do as they like. It was the way the ship had handled the most tough ordeals. In this idea, if Yama had wanted to drink until his thoughts muddled, he had the possibility to do so ; if Yama had decided to interrupt the captain, that being so, he could do it. If Yama had decided to dangerously lean towards him... well, he should also feel free to do it. Same if he wished to brutally collapse on the armchair and its occupant when his legs would decide to let him go... Though it was not really a wish anymore. Things were not really turning in a nice way...

The celestial pirate put a preventive hand on Yama's arm, intending to make him stand up, but to his own surprise, he felt his knees land on the sit, on each side of his legs. Then the young man's hands landed on his chest and his heavy forehead on Harlock's shoulder. A slight shudder crossed the lounging body against his. A few trembling words came to disturb his ear :

“We are both irradiated by the dark matter... Out of time.”

Then, as no reply came :

“I wonder how it feels... To live for so long. Certainly there is tiredness... Can we get tired of being ?”

Harlock did not answer. An oral answer would not be of any use ; one day he will live it himself, and he will know. To hurry it would not be useful, or else would increase his ordeal. Plus, he doubted that some memories would remain for him the next morning. So the two men stayed still in silence, for long minutes, when only their breaths came to disrupt the immobility of the scenery. Yama's hands then slid slowly on his chest.

“Yet there is this warmth. And this heart beating...”

That being so. Those words did not find themselves in any consistent speech.

The young man let himself fall a bit more against the captain's body, certainly to emphasize his claim because their chests found themselves pressed one against the other. The captain raised a hand to prevent his knees from pushing even more in the armchair and being in a way more uncomfortable position against this body of an unusual heat. But the shudder that crossed Yama stopped him and his hand found itself simply put against the thigh which, literally, was offering itself to him under the rough fabric.

Again, a shiver traveled down the young man's spine. The move was almost imperceptible, but Harlock felt it, this thigh was pushing a bit more against his hand. _As a cat begging for strokes._ This idea in mind, he brushed the fabric several times with the tip of his fingers. Yama seemed to push himself a bit more against him while his back was arcing. His thigh pressed a lot against the hand that held it, insistent, and a satisfied sigh answered its move that increased, the palm slowly moving up and down.

_A cat_ , really, Harlock could not take this idea out of his thoughts, even though he knew perfectly well that the reality was an other one. Besides, the cat was slowly guiding his movements, trying to orientate him towards the places he liked the most and... It is a moan of pleasure which got muffled against his shoulder while the two legs sitting on top of his were spreading until the armrests stopped them. Yama's impatient hand grabbed his and he found his fingers stroking the shaking groin.

“ _A-aah..._ ”

It was actually probable that Yama went in this room only because of this exact state, what he felt brushing his hand with more and more insistence, before his palm got directly guided towards it. A louder moan against his ear almost made him shudder himself.

The captain was not moving, but was not getting away either ; so the hips against him moved by themselves, clumsily but without a doubt. Their rotation had something desperate, a need of contact, of touch, irrepressible, and that found its source deeper than in the simple hormonal urge of a young man, still close to his teenager years. The scenery he was taking an involuntary part in looked even... sensual and, wasn't it a touch of agitation, of _excitation_ that made his generous hand tremble ?

“ _Ha... Harlock..._ ”

One of Yama's hands searched for his balance and came to circle the top of his thigh. This time, really, he _shivered_. And the boy, despite his state of dizziness, felt it perfectly, seemed to understand something. Yet before he could try anything, Harlock had beaten him to prevent any bad idea ; he himself pushed firmly his arm between the young man's legs, who moaned, dropping himself against him, close to his ear. Long rolls of frenetic hips, a few quick moves of his arms and the body tensed and climbed to the pirate, before letting itself heavily fall, but with satisfaction.

Then minutes passed in silence, when Harlock followed the rhythm of the breath which was crashing against his ear as it decreased slowly, then calm down, eventually to take a calm and deep tone. Close to one from a man dived into sleep.

“Yama...?”

But, of course, no reply came, no move answered him. He had really fell asleep. And in such a state... A sigh crossed Harlock's lips while he got up, his hands firmly holding the young man's shoulders. What would he do with _this_ , now...?

\----------------------------------------------------

“Hm...”

A groan got lost into Yama's throat, while he was tying to put his head off his pillow. His eyelids were heavy, he had the feeling that the size of his brain had doubled and was painfully pressing in every corner of his head. He limply put a hand on his forehead to pull his messy strands of hair out of his eye and looked hazily towards his pillow. He felt odd... And for a good reason, the young man quickly realized that this feeling was partly coming from his get-up, which could be resume as a white sheet ; and yet the habit of sleeping entirely naked was far from his. Another thing : his bed suddenly seemed surprisingly big to him... He raised his head.

The decoration of the room did absolutely not fit his tastes, and even more the one of his room. The splendid and, in the same time, dark side was besides reserved to only one person. The ex-soldier hurriedly raised on his elbows with a cry of surprise. What, exactly, was he doing in a bed that, there was clear evidence, was Harlock's, and naked ?!

What had he done the previous day that could have lead him here in this state...? Ah yes, he had drunk. With the crew. Well, the crew forced him. At the beginning... And he had made a well fool of himself... Especially Kei enjoyed it wholeheartedly... But Harlock was not with them, at this moment... Would he...? What would have he done ? And who may have seen ? A slight noise from a glass made him jump. He quickly turned his head towards the center of the room, where was standing Harlock, sitting in front of the massive table, who had just put his empty glass while turning towards him.

“W... What...?”

Yama felt his cheeks burn unpleasantly.

“You have quite a heavy sleep”, was the only reply.

“Could you explain...?!”

He shut up. A slight grinding of the chair had indicated that Harlock was standing up. The man made a few steps forwards to reach the bed. He hardly dared to look up at him and was clenching at the sheet that circled his waist.

A weigh on the bed made him jump. A knee had came to land on the mattress, between his. Instinctively, he tried to move backwards. However, the captain was resolutely looking at him, and he did not dare to move. Not understanding, he felt him getting closer to him, his knee pushing on the sheet which he felt slowly sliding away. Yama grabbed it firmly, panicked and mortified.

“You was quite impertinent...”

_Really...?_ Harlock's eyes kept firmly starting at his. And... he was a bit _too_ close and... _oh_. He was not expecting this kind of sensations. Not from those lips... Not that he had ever thought of it... The pirate proved to be skilled at kissing, very skilled... He felt his own lips burning, his eyelids were closing and he could not do anything about it. His tongue was a bit caressing, maybe a bit sneaky, but it may have made numerous wills bend to his. And Yama had lost his. After all, it was what happened last night, wasn't it ? Yama dropped his sheets and, slowly, without any self-assurance, circled the man's neck with his arms. Vaguely, he felt the other put his second knee between his, the sheet slid a bit more... He felt so vulnerable. Inexperienced, his lips feverishly tried to answer the demand ; he felt more than ready to rediscover what may have happened the previous day. If it was with the captain...

Then suddenly, the heat against his body vanished and his lips found themselves lonely. He found himself, panting, bare, reddened by the excitation, whereas Harlock was standing up, perfectly calm and staid. He looked briefly down at him from his height and concluded :

“Be ready in five minutes. And on the deck.”

He caught his cape lying on the back of a chair and, with an elegant, almost calculated, movement, put it on his shoulders. Yama followed its gracious move with his eyes, while it slowly felt down towards the floor then gently moved to the rhythm of the pirate's steps, as he was leaving the room.

It took him some time to think about closing his mouth. That was all ? He was letting him, like that, after... _that_ ? And this slight contraction in the corner of his lips, it was a mocking smile, wasn't it ? And... and... How was he supposed to get ready ? He did not see the mere shadow of a cloth he owned in the room ! And about taking a walk with a sheet around his waist, to everyone's eyes, especially in the area of Harlock's room ? He could rather hang himself with it. Kei would not miss him... Well... He squeezed his legs together. In his current state, could he even manage to get dressed...?

The young man surprised himself cursing the captain. He would not, in his turn, start to make fun of him ?! Well, if it was this kind of fun...

Anyways, what the captain did had really been advances... So maybe, if Yama drink again this night...

Wasn't it a call for revenge ?


End file.
